CHAPTER 32

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"Never complain, never explain. Resist the temptation to defend yourself or make excuses" - Brian Tracy.

Third Person's POV

Cam wakes up to a bright and beautiful morning. She was well rested. When she slowly opens her eyes, trying to adjust them to the bright lights of the sun that reflected through her windows, the first thing that she sights is a pair of eyes looking down at her, admiration dancing in them. With the idea that she might be hallucinating, she shuts her eyes for a couple of seconds and opens them again. Those eyes were still looking down at her, adoration evident in them. She gets a clearer view and it was Lucas, staring down at her, a smile of satisfaction playing on his lips.

He was completely lost staring at her and being mesmerized that he barely noticed it when she opened her eyes.

She snaps her fingers in his face to get his attention. It worked, cause he blinks back into reality and pulls away.

"What are you doing?" She asks him.

"Staring at your beautiful face." He smirks.

She ignores his remark and gets up into a sitting position.

She raises her brows at him, questioningly. "And what are you doing in my room?"

He comfily stretches himself on the bed, as he leans his upper back against the headboard "Our room."

She frowns, raising her voice at him. "Point of correction?"

"Our room." He repeats, his voice not wavering a bit.

"How is it 'our room'?" She air quotes with her hands.

"Pierson said I could sleep in here." He utters, a smile still playing on his lips.

Pierson asked him to? Is that backstabbing or the heck it isn't. Why would Pierson do that?

"So did you sleep on the bed too?" She asks with a look daring him to say yes.

"No!" He says and it is the truth. He didn't.

She wiggled her brows at him, an action that showed that she didn't believe him.

"I promise, I didn't." He chuckles "Although I wanted to." He says undertone, more to himself and she didn't hear.

"If you claim you didn't, then what are you doing in this bed, beside me?" She continues to wiggle her brows even more, a smile on her face.

"I was admiring God's handiwork, a work of art."

"Lucas," she lets out a chuckle and places a hand on her chest dramatically, "are you flirting with me?" She batts her lashes constantly.

"Me? No! I'm just appreciating your beauty. You're pretty."

"Lucas!" She hits his chest with her fist and laughs even more and he joins her.

He halts, "I'm serious about that part, though." He says in a tone devoid of amusement.

"U-h, thanks! I guess?!" She says more of a question than an answer.

"Anything for you, Amy."

She gets down from the bed, "I'm...." She motions towards the door, "heading out." She says before dashing out.

___

"Pierson!" She yells his name as she descends the stairs. She needed answers and she was getting it from by hook or crook. "Pierson!!!" She yells even louder this time around.

When she gets closer to the couch on which he was sprawled, in the living room, she pulls his blanket away from his body. He moves a little, mumbling insanities, as his body can detect the absence of the blanket.

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